


The Curious Case of Experiment 5.2-12

by C-chan (1001paperboxes)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bodyswap, Gen, Memoirs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan
Summary: The story of Experiment 5.2-12, as told through the log of its primary researcher, one M. Joly, medical student and amateur Romantic eccentric.
Relationships: Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre & Joly (Les Misérables), Joly & Bossuet Laigle, Joly & Jean Prouvaire, Les Amis de l'ABC Friendship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: Les Misérables Poisson d'Avril





	The Curious Case of Experiment 5.2-12

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oftangles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftangles/gifts).



> Written in response to the prompt "Bossuet helps Joly with a questionable experiment, bad luck and eccentricity cause it to go unplanned and the best part? Enjolras was somehow roped into their shenanigans."
> 
> I hope this properly meets (and defies) your expectations.

**April 1, 18—**

A doctor's job is to work tirelessly for the health and benefit of all he can; of this I have no doubt. This can be difficult indeed when it seems that the imbalance lies not in the body, but in the spirit or mind, or indeed in the city itself. 

In the case of the latter, I have resolved to do what I can: I volunteer with a close friend and colleague, Combeferre, in collaboration with some mutual acquaintances, to see to the needs of the poor and the immigrant populations. We also are both part of a group dedicated to child education, and enjoy discussing matters that may eventually see to the betterment of the nation and indeed the world. There are many matters that I'm afraid may be beyond our grasp, however I believe that in every person lies potential greatness, and I am proud to help foster that of the men that I'm proud to call my comrades and friends.

In the case of the former, however… if disease of the mind is caused by an imbalance of some sort, I have yet to pinpoint the cause. And not through lack of trying—if my own sense of anxiety could be assuaged by leeches, or the alignment of furniture, or a tincture of one herb or another, not only would I be its most ardent practitioner, but also a fervent proselytiser. Alas, the best cure I've found so far is alcohol in moderation and friendship in abundance, and even that is due to failure from time to time, especially if the amounts are not properly mixed.

And in the case of my dearest friend, M. Lesgles (of Meaux, though of no relation to the eagle from whom he has gained the nickname Bossuet) not even that is truly a cure. For what is there to aid or alleviate chronic bad luck?

Enter M. Prouvaire, another good friend and erudite scholar who has bestowed upon me what he claims to be a surefire cure for bad luck. Upon reading it, I am unsure of whether or not it will succeed. However, given the remarkably poor state of M. Lesgles' fortune, and the equally poor state of the two waistcoats he's destroyed while walking home from the Mussain this week alone, we both agree that anything is worth an experiment in the name of science. After all, the worst case scenario should simply be no change, minus an acceptable loss of materials.

The experiment apparently is best performed at night, so one can sleep off the worst of the effects before morning. I assume this is due to the mix of bitter herbs and mead meant to be imbibed during the process, though perhaps the entire ritual is also considerably more taxing than it seems on paper.

At any rate, we shall find out tonight. And then in the morning, we shall see what _Fortuna_ has in store.

* * *

**April 2, 18—**

Something has gone horribly wrong.

Lesgles was indeed exhausted by the end of the night, and more than a little drunk, and saying that he was aching all over when I saw him to bed. All of this was to be expected—-the experiment was quite thorough; more so than I had expected.

He went to bed in my apartment’s second bedroom, as has been his home these past several months. I walked with him to bed. I helped him change, as his state of inebriation was making motor control somewhat difficult. I even tucked him in and promised to check in with some bread and water in the morning.

However, the man I found in that bed this morning was not Lesgles. No indeed, though the face on the man was no less familiar to me. 

Through some strange circumstances, I seem to have gone to bed with one friend and awoken with another, for the form most certainly belonged to one M. Enjolras.

I left the man sleeping for the time being, and plan to talk to the porter to see if he has heard of any strange comings and goings in the night. It is certainly possible that something has happened of which I know not, but already I fear for Lesgles. After all, from the poor shape he was in last night, to have been out on the streets may have been torturous. Can fortune change that fast?

We shall have to see.

* * *

Something has indeed gone wrong, though more curious and amazing than I ever expected.

The porter had not seen anyone come and go, nor had he heard any rumours of such. I mention this both for thoroughness’ sake, and to prepare you for the plausibility of what I am about to say:

Despite all outward appearance, I truly believe the man in my apartment to be Lesgles. 

The poor man didn't awake until nearly noon, and when he did, he greeted me as our Eagle generally would, as if unaware that anything was wrong. Or, well, I suppose that is wrong on most counts. He indicated that his balance was rather off as he was greeting me, but otherwise was in good spirits. And while the words were Lesgles', the voice was very much that of Enjolras.

And then, when he finally managed his way to view his reflection, he let out a scream and a set of expletives that I would prefer not to copy down at this time.

Sitting down, he eschewed solid food, but agreed to both strong liquor and coffee, which I was more than glad to provide given the situation, though I advised that he balance both out with clear water, and managed to coax some bread into him as well.

This man's memories match those of Lesgles'. Not only was he able to tell me in good detail what happened last night, at least up until the second part of our experiment began (and he began drinking the mead-based tonic in earnest), but he was also able to answer some rather personal questions to which I believe only he and I would have proper knowledge.

I plan to contact Combeferre this evening and get his opinion on the matter. To say that this is an unusual state of affairs is clearly an understatement, and having a second opinion on all of this would be greatly appreciated, especially coming from a co-conspiratorially brilliant mind such as his.

* * *

**April 3, 18—**

Combeferre is as absolutely fascinated with the current state of affairs as I am.

The two of us have asked for some time off our regular studies to see to this matter—we are quite certain that any discoveries made will be well worth the time away from normalcy.

Combeferre did a thorough examination of the man in my apartment, and has come to the same conclusion that I have: It is clearly Lesgles, though with Enjolras' appearance. At the time of writing, Combeferre is on his way to visit Enjolras, so we can hopefully get a comparison between the original and this copy. Once that is complete, we shall start further researching into what may have caused this transformation in the first place. We both are curious about replication as well, but feel it best to wait to try until we have this situation well in hand, and we understand the true depths of this transformation.

In the meantime, I am glad to report that Lesgles remains in relatively good spirits. He tells me that he's never looked prettier, and that he's enjoying this lithe, statuesque figure. That said, none of his clothes currently fit anymore; and we're not entirely sure of the best way to complement Enjolras' appearance with what is on hand. In the meantime, Lesgles is aiming to stay indoors as much as possible, meaning that I am being sent out to fetch meals and entertainment for us both. It is a small sacrifice in the name of science, and truly one I'd do for him even if science was not part of the equation.

Outside of that, all I can do at present is wait, observe, and take down what notes I can. Hopefully, Combeferre will be back soon with the genuine article, and we shall come to some new breakthrough. I am excited to see where this will lead!

* * *

**April 4, 18—**

Combeferre did not return until far too late in the evening last night for anything more than a very brief discussion. 

Apparently Enjolras was refusing visitors, or even to answer the door at all. He did, however, speak through it, and Combeferre noted that something was off about the voice he heard from within. Thankfully, Combeferre being Combeferre and Enjolras being Enjolras, the former was eventually allowed entry into the latter's residence.

And it was thus that he, and I by extension, learned that the transformation is mutual.

Combeferre confided that Enjolras was in his dressing gown; all other garments in his possession now far too tight for proper wear upon Lesgles' general frame. We are sending a care package with Combeferre today containing some of Lesgles' less beat-up clothes, so as to give Enjolras something comfortable to wear that will be up to his tastes, lest he want to venture farther than his front door before we have things sorted.

Of course, Enjolras would prefer to have his original form back. Lesgles, though enjoying the ravishing beauty of our mutual friend, has admitted that adjusting to the change is difficult, and that he finds himself constantly underreaching for things as muscle memory fights to keep up with current bodily proportions. Not to mention, he is abstaining from many of the… well… more base tasks he often enjoys, out of respect for the other man's body.

A few questions stand out in my mind:

  1. How did these two come to exchange forms? What part of the experiment served as that catalyst, and what enabled it? Is it indeed replicable?
  2. How will it end? Shall it wear itself off in a given amount of time, or is it permanent? Or, must an antidote be prepared, and if so, what must it be?
  3. What is proper etiquette in these situations? In public, should one go by the name of the body for ease of recognition, or continue on with the name of the soul for personal comfort?
  4. For that matter, does this somehow prove the existence of the soul beyond a measurable doubt? Or that of a body's surprisingly mutable nature?



I will talk these over with Combeferre upon his return, and invite Prouvaire as well for his input. As he was the spark of inspiration, I'm sure that he must have some further information to divulge. Or, if not, he may at least know where to look.

At this point, any clue may be worth exploring.

* * *

**April 5, 18—**

A list of observations:

  * Enjolras’ hair _glows_. I discovered this the other night, when helping Lesgles to bed after a night of drinking and camaraderie (still at home—we have mutually agreed that a drunken Enjolras upon the town is not the sort of rumour we wish to have started nor substantiated). It is a dull sort of glow that is only visible when the lights are out, brilliant enough to produce a dim halo illuminating his face and shoulders. Lesgles says he noticed this the first night, once he’d gone to bed—it took a while for him to settle, due to the incomplete darkness. I wish he’d told me sooner. As it is, I shall now have to wait to interview Combeferre, or for him to interview Enjolras, to see if this is entirely natural, or if it is another side-effect of our current predicament.
  * Lesgles has experienced no bad luck since the experiment started. True, he’s barely been outside our apartment, however even there we normally go through at least one dish per week, and he trips over items we hadn’t realized were on the floor at least thrice daily. But there has not been one slip, trip, spill, or fall since the day of the initial experiment.
  * On the other hand, Enjolras has reportedly become one giant bruise, if Combeferre’s depiction of the sort of mishaps he’s witnessed at our friend’s abode are anywhere near accurate. This leads me to the conclusion that luck must be tied to the body, and not to the psyche. So, in some ways, the experiment was a success, however as our aim was to ease or erase, rather than displace the original cause. Ergo, while tying luck to the body may suggest the possibility of a more medical treatment… I doubt that this is quite the appropriate one to take.
  * While luck may be tied to the body, bodily awareness is certainly tied to the soul. Underreaching has far fewer bad effects than overreaching, but it's been clear that Lesgles has been consistently overestimating his height and girth, though he seems to be improving as the days go on.
  * Keeping contained seems to be a useful answer in the short term; citing illness is as good a way as any to keep others away and from learning about this predicament in such a way that it could become awkward, but I fear that it may not work in the long run. Prouvaire is unaware of a way to reverse the effects, but he will look into it.
  * In the meantime, I am hoping to convince Enjolras to come and visit us sometime. He should be safe enough, despite the luck, if travelling with Combeferre. However, convincing him to come may prove difficult. We shall brainstorm ways in which to achieve this end tonight.



* * *

**April 6, 18—**

Enjolras has a public speech tomorrow.

Apparently, he's had this arranged for months with a local worker's group. This is an important moment and not something that should be missed.

Of course, this is rather complicated by the fact that there is not one whole Enjolras to deliver the speech.

The best option, it seems, is to have Enjolras write the speech and "Enjolras" deliver it. While he did not come visit today, he did promise to both deliver a speech tomorrow and provide elocution lessons before the appointed time in the evening. We shall also go over our options with Prouvaire and Combeferre at this time, and hopefully get a little closer to knowing why precisely everything came to be as it is, and how to eventually undo this experiment's effects.

Lesgles still remains in good spirits, but admits the idea of performing a speech on someone else's behalf sits oddly with him. I can't say I blame him. But things shall continue as they must, and we shall reassess as more information becomes available.

Hopefully, that shan't be too much longer.

* * *

**April 7, 18—**

Today has been hectic, but full of good and important moments that I would not wish to forget.

Lesgles wept when he saw his body for the first time in nearly a week. I believe that this has convinced him, even more than the speech, that he wishes to return to his own form, despite all benefits to the contrary. Also, his face looks odd with Enjolras' generally serious countenance. A smile and hearty laugh suits those lips far better, of that I can say from long-lived experience.

I believe that Prouvaire was disappointed that the pair did not automatically revert when they first saw each other, nor when they first touched. He kept trying to talk them into more and more intimate positions, to see if any would do the trick, but I truly don't believe that shall be the answer. After all, they weren't even in the same building when the first transformation happened at all. We did, however, discover a potential reason for the swap: The gold chain we borrowed to hang a pendant belonged originally to Enjolras. He lent it to Prouvaire, who, in turn, lent it to me for the experiment, but recognized it immediately when we went over the implements. Though, again, touching the chain simultaneously did nothing, nor did wrapping their hands in it. Still, Prouvaire thinks he may be onto something, and ran off sometime in the afternoon to procure something that he said may be the answer. WIth any luck, we'll have more information tomorrow.

In the meantime, I can state that watching someone try to explain to another how their own body should act and sound while giving a speech is one of the oddest experiences I've ever experienced. The speech itself went well; however, there was some disappointment that he wouldn't stay around to talk after. Lesgles, as Enjolras, did promise to come back again soon and talk in a more informal setting; our contacts will arrange for an appropriate date and time, I'm sure. I won't get into the details of the talk itself here, however; that is for a different kind of study than that on which I am focussing.

It was raining on our trip home, and the hair was glowing again—I could just make out its luminescence through the raindrops.

Hopefully neither of us come down with a cold—I tried to keep us both as dry as possible, but one never knows. The last thing we need is for illness to get in the way of correcting our current predicament.

At the moment, however, I'm in unusually good spirits. I hope it may continue.

* * *

**April 8, 18—**

Prouvaire has come up with a new hypothesis, based on his research linked to the original experiment and other antidotes and what he calls counter-charms, that he thinks will return both Lesgles and Enjolras to their proper forms.

All in all, it will take quite a similar list of ingredients as the original, except twice the tonic of mead and herbs, so that each may have an equal portion. Prouvaire has also suggested they be handfasted for the duration, and has procured a ceremonial rope for the occasion. 

With Lesgles' and Enjolras' consent, he and I will administer this tonight, and Combeferre will observe and take notes.

With any luck, we may cure this odd exchange of souls once and for all. And if not, well, we shall observe the scientific method once more, and go back to form a new hypothesis.

Still, I pray that it succeeds, and that fortune may smile down on us tonight.

* * *

**April 9, 18—**

Last night, Combeferre and I saw Enjolras and Lesgles to bed together, still handfasted as they went to sleep in Lesgles' bed.

This morning, Enjolras and Lesglas emerged, each in their own bodies, each completely themselves.

Enjolras' hair, it was observed, was glowing a little brighter than usual. He says that this is common after stressful days, which both answers my previous question and begs for several more to be asked.

However, I believe that can be put aside for now.

Today is for celebrating Lesgles for who he is, alive, whole, and in his normal body, luckiness or lack thereof be damned.

* * *

**April 11, 18—**

Jehan and Bahorel have come, asking for me to perform the experiment once again, citing both the need for repeated results to prove something actually a success, and the mutual want to experience life through each other's perspective.

And thus, we begin again.


End file.
